


My Love, I'll Protect You Forever

by LostChanceTo



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Angst, Cussing, Homophobia, M/M, hiatus until December
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-16
Updated: 2016-10-05
Packaged: 2018-08-15 07:16:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8047324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LostChanceTo/pseuds/LostChanceTo
Summary: (HIATUS )Xiumin, an editor and a freelance translator who lives in China, is called back to Korea for the yearly get-together. This year, instead of being able to successfully being able to fly under the radar, he comes into contact with a gatecrasher named Baekhyun. Baekhyun isn't from rigid rules and unforgiving parents like Xiumin is, and is more than willing to allow Xiumin into his life. From there, his life spirals out of control, beginning with a growing forbidden love. (Celebrity AU)





	1. The Email

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my second chaptered fic. I don't really have a written out plan, but I'm a couple chapters ahead of what I've posted. I'll update it once a week, but they'll be pretty late in the day and I've been known to forget to post a new chapter. But don't worry, each new one will come about a week apart.  
> The title is taken from Promise (EXO 2014).  
> With all that taken care of. . . Enjoy the story!!!

Chapter One

 

_ “And who’s in this room?” The MC asked, raising an eyebrow as she gestured to the only closed door. She stood on the top step of the stairs, having seen the door just before she began her descent. The two men with her paused, glancing over at it. They had just finished showing her through their own rooms and were about to go back downstairs to tour the rooms downstairs. The younger one, Jongdae, looked at his older brother. Joonmyun shifted a little, but the pleasant smile didn’t leave his face. Their eyes met, something clearly passing between them, before Jongdae moved closer to both the MC and the camera. _

_ “That, my dear friend, is our oldest brother’s room,” Jongdae said, his kittenish smile fixed in place, “you remember him, don’t you? Minseok-hyung. He hasn’t been back in a while. I miss him, don’t you? He’s always spoiling us, if it wasn’t for him I would never have gotten my first car.”  _

_ Joonmyun stepped out from behind Jongdae, slipping something that looked like his phone into his pocket, and said, “would you like to go inside? Minseok-hyung doesn’t mind when we use it, although it’s usually Jongin who goes inside.” _

_ “Is it really alright?” The MC said, her high voice abrasive among the sweet, deep tones of the brothers. The two nodded and lead the way inside.  _

_ The windows were already open, the sun sending streaks of light across the small room. The desk was messy, Jongin’s homework spread across the table along with pens and chargers. Jongdae laughed when he saw them, pointing it out to the camera and explaining about Jongin’s burning hatred for noise while he studied. There weren’t any rumples on the twin sized bed, the pale blue sheets smooth. The pillows were fluffed, unused, and at the foot of the bed there was a pair of slippers. Jongdae slipped them on, grinning and telling Joonmyun he still didn’t fit in Minseok’s shoes. Joonmyun ruffled his hair, a pained yet fond expression on his face. The closet doors were open, the clothes inside neatly pressed and arranged according to color. Joonmyun pulled out one of the shirts with a surprised laugh, telling the MC that it belonged to Jongin.  _

_ “He must be secretly been moving in,” Jongdae said, reaching out to brush his fingers across the fabric. Joonmyun hummed, folding it over his arm.  _

_ “Wow,” the MC mumbled. They looked over to see her staring in awe at Minseok’s collection of fantasy books. “Your hyung really liked reading, didn’t he?” _

_ “Yeah,” Joonmyun said, “more often or not he was reading when I came to him. It was cool, at least in my eyes, how he’d always treat his books like people, putting them down carefully and using a bookmark instead of folding down the corners. I never had that sort of patience, so it kind of cemented the fact that he was the oldest in my head.” _

_ “Oh, remember that one time little Nini grabbed the book he was reading and tore out a page?” Jongdae gasped, pointing at Joonmyun. The older brother doubled up, laughing until his eyes watered, and even then he couldn’t stop. Jongdae turned to the MC, his eyes glittering. “So Hyung was really into that book, this one right. . . here, he hadn’t put it down for weeks, and so when Jongin tore out the page -” _

Xiumin turned off the television, a smile on his face. It wasn’t a habit to watch television, especially not before work, but he hadn’t been able to stop himself when he saw Jongdae’s grin and heard the heart-achingly familiar rise and fall of Joonmyun’s voice. He hadn’t seen such real smiles on the brothers’ faces for such a long time. They were pros at hiding themselves from the camera, the three of them. But they would never be able to hide their thoughts and feelings from him. 

He glanced around his apartment, if it could be called that, small and cramped and everything he had ever wanted. It was only two rooms, the main one and the bathroom. He snatched his keys out of the bowl on the table, pulling a mask on to cover the bottom half of his face. He slipped on his shoes and locked the door behind him as he left. Beijing was just waking up, cars already everywhere and raising up a ruckus. Xiumin grinned at them, pulling his jacket tighter as he hurried to his office building. Editing wasn’t so bad, considering what he left. Add a new identity and a side job as a translator, Xiumin was living much easier than he ever had the chance to. It didn’t really matter to him that his apartment was tiny or that the pay from both jobs was barely enough to sustain him. He was happy, finally.

The subways were crowded, and not for the first time since he arrived in Beijing Xiumin found himself squashed between the wall and a creepy looking man. Once again he was thankful for the hard work he had put into gaining the muscles that lined his small body. Some days it felt like that was the only thing coming between his dignity and someone feeling him up because of his pretty face. At least, he was told his face was pretty, Xiumin tended not to believe in that sort of compliment. Everybody wanted something, after all. 

His office building wasn’t actually that large or sophisticated-looking. It didn’t loom over the rest of the busy street it was on. The building itself was a little old, the first floor a bookstore and the second and third proving themselves worthy of the small offices inside. Xiumin made his way past street vendors and beggars and street dancers, pausing to offer the money in his wallet to those who needed it more than he did. The bookstore was cozy, there was no other word for it. Sometimes Xiumin would spend his lunch breaks lost within the shelves, the smell of freshly printed books warming him and the feel of paper under his fingertips. In the mornings he had only a few seconds to indulge himself, not for fear of being late, but because of what would come next.

“Baozi!” Xiumin sighed at the familiar raspy voice, bracing himself for the flying tackle of a hug he was about to get attacked by. His coworker plowed into him, and it was only past experience and long hours at the gym that kept him from falling into a bookshelf. “You came!”

“Of course I did, Taozi,” Xiumin said, his voice a little muffled from the mask he hadn’t gotten the chance to remove, “I work here.” Tao’s dark rimmed eyes glittered up from where his face was half buried in Xiumin’s chest. It was a miracle Tao actually was able to lower himself so far enough to do it, he was already taller than Xiumin ever hoped to be. Xiumin moved his hand to thread through Tao’s hair, the blond a stark difference from the black it had been the day before. 

“Oh, yeah, that was a thing,” Tao said as he pulled back. He dragged a hand through his hair, biting into his lip. Xiumin raised an eyebrow, waiting for his friend to stop acting. Tao did so with a pout, clinging onto Xiumin’s arm as Tao dragged him upstairs to their shared office. Xiumin took in a deep breath as he pulled off his mask, the stink of two many people crammed together with almost nonexistent air conditioning stinging the inside of his nose. Through the thin grey walls of the office he could the click-clack of keys, muted voices and the occasional triumphant shout. The sound was comforting, familiar. “You could at least act like you like it.”

“Do I look like an intern to you?” Xiumin said, laughing. Tao flopped into his chair, glaring. Xiumin winked, a fancy one that included a blown kiss that he knew had Tao melting. And melt he did, groaning miserably and burying his face in his hands as his face and ears turned red.

“That’s not fair,” Tao said, “how come you’ve got a hot as fuck face but mine’s just pretty.”

“Pretty gets you girls,” Xiumin said, “especially older ones.”

“I want a hot guy, a hot older guy,” Tao complained. He twisted in his seat to face Xiumin properly. Xiumin glanced over at him as he set up his laptop, pulling up his email. “A Jiejie would be nice, but I’ve been a guy mood lately. Hard chests and strong arms, kinda like you but taller. You think pretty is too unapproachable?”

“Is that why you dyed your hair?” Xiumin didn’t look up from the emails he was glancing over, a mixture of work related ones and advertisements. 

“Yeah, plus I look good with it,” Tao ran a hand through his hair again, this time forgoing a sexy face and just wiggling his eyebrows. 

“You look better in black,” Xiumin frowned at a commision, his stomach turning into led in a free fall to his knees. Translating was hard, harder when it was a solo project. To be honest he wouldn’t be too bothered with translating a solid book, but the official translation? That was a big job. Not to mention it was written by a well known mandopop star.

“ _ Standing Firm at 24 _ ?” Xiumin jumped a little at Tao’s voice, the hot air drifting over his ear a little uncomfortable. “I’ve heard of it, supposedly it’s really good. Isn’t it written by that one guy, Wu Zhang Yixing?”

“His stage name is Lay, and for whatever reason his studio wants me to translate,” Xiumin said. Tao shrugged, pulling away and tugging on Xiumin’s sleeve. “On my own. Without other translators for backup.”

“I could always help, we don’t have to tell the studio,” Tao said, his eyes twinkling. Xiumin rolled his eyes and mumbled about breaking the contract, but he began to write an affirmative reply to the star’s studio. Tao let out a quiet whoop, dancing around the room in triumph. Xiumin finished typing it up pretty quickly, years of practice hurrying his fingers on the familiar keys. He looked up to see his best friend dance around the room, the movements holding a type of fluid grace that only came from years of dance. 

The last email was more ominous, a reminder of a life he would never be able to escape. It was short and concise, simply alerting him that he had a plane ticket back to Korea and orders to obtain a fitted suit and that he would be provided with a mask. Xiumin sighed, rubbing his eyes. Tao glanced over at him, curious, but he didn’t come over to read over Xiumin’s shoulder again.

Xiumin thought about it. Not going would result in something drastic, but going had more cons than pros. Xiumin stared at the email for another minute before closing out of his email. He would deal with it later. 

Later turned out to be during lunch. Xiumin gave up his precious library time to read and reread the email, trying to find a discrepancy or something to indicate that the get-together this year wasn’t mandatory. It was only a few lines however, and Xiumin found himself typing out a reply with discouraged fingers. It was only a two hour flight, three depending on the speed of the plane. Each year he found himself dreading the ride more, nerves building in his stomach when there had originally been relaxed shoulders and a smooth space between his brows. Xiumin read his reply over just once more, wondering if he should have added more than the three words that glared out at him in stark black. 

In the end he sent it, a simple  _ I’ll be there. _

Xiumin debated whether or not he should tell his best friend while he began to translate the first page of his new commission. It wouldn’t exactly hurt either of them, and in the previous years that he had told Tao about it his friend hadn’t put two and two together to figure out who he used to be. He doubted it would be a big deal to Tao who he used to be, but just in case. Eventually he decided to tell Tao, turning to find the younger man already looking at him.

“You got that email again, didn’t you?” Tao said. Xiumin blinked, then nodded. Tao dropped his eyes, thinking, then smiled up at him. “What are they asking for this time?”

“Nothing much, just a fitted suit,” Xiumin said. Tao’s eyes flew wide. “Yeah, I know.”

“Shit, I can barely afford rent on this salary and they want you to pay for that along with a fancy suit? That’s fucked up,” Tao said, “here, you know what? I can sew, just get yourself something cheap and I’ll fix it for you.” 

“You know I’m shit at picking out outfits,” Xiumin reminded him, getting a string of curses in reply. Tao jumped out of his chair, pacing and mumbling to himself. He whirled on Xiumin, eyes narrowing.

“When do you leave?” He asked. Tao sounded a little scary, his voice lowered and more raspy than usual. Xiumin raised an eyebrow, wondering what his friend was planning.

“Two weeks.”

“Perfect, give me your sizes,” Tao said, hurried to his desk and pulling out paper, a pencil, and a tape measure. Xiumin blinked at him, before slowly getting up and out of his chair. Tao fussed over him, moving the tape measure from place to place and scribbling down notes on the paper. “I’m friends with a tailor, between the two of us we should be able to finish your suit with time to spare.”

Fourteen days later saw Xiumin running to catch the plane, his new suit folded neatly in the bottom of his single carry on bag.


	2. The Party (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Xiumin arrives at the party, and hears some startling news. (He also presides over a bet. ^^)

Chapter Two

 

Xiumin blinked awake, the familiar hotel ceiling almost blinding. It was the same one he had been in each time he flew over, the only one he had ever had to stay in. It wasn’t luxurious, but it was a far cry from what he could afford with his own paycheque. It was embarrassing, just a little, the fact that he couldn’t fly back on his own money, couldn’t rent his own hotel room. It only solidified the idea that he wasn’t anything by himself, that he was weak and had to rely on others to survive. The idea he hadn’t fallen for in the past five years. 

Xiumin glanced at his phone, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he slowly sat up. The party, if he could call it that, started in about a half hour. He didn’t really want to go, but his promise and some feeling terrifyingly close to filial duty pushed him to. There were other pressures too, sinking into his stomach and regurgitating a million butterflies to annoy him. It had been a while since had felt like this. Normally the butterflies waited until he arrived and saw the cameras to bother him. Today they were starting early, and it bothered him. 

The thought chased around his head as he used the bathroom and put on his suit. He couldn’t think of anything that could go wrong, anything that would put him or the other guests or even his family in danger. Everything had already been looked at and examined, he was sure of it. They had been using the same room of the same building for years. Never had there once been an accident, never a misstep, never anything to worry about other how much you could drink without being reasonably drunk. At least that was all during the first part, after the cameras turned off it was a different story that usually ended up with someone knocked up and regrets all around.

Xiumin felt weird, leaving the building with nothing over his face but a thin earloop mask. It was a plain white one, he hadn’t bothered to bring a fancier one. He had never felt so underdressed, not since he left Korea for good. He didn’t like the idea of the cameras catching on the unobstructed view of his face. There was a reason he had never attended without something to cover his face, and to have this last barrier stripped from him was worsening the nerves building in his stomach. Xiumin’s hands shook from their position in his lap, his voice a little off as Korean flowed from his lips. The cab driver didn’t pick up on the tremor, nodding and telling Xiumin they would be there in about fifteen minutes.

The building, when he finally arrived, was immaculate. The lawn was shaven down to a inch off the ground, the bushes cut just so. The driveway was already packed with cars, each one foreign or vintage or simply expensive. Xiumin missed the simplicity of the cars in Beijing already, the bright colors and shiny new paint jobs burning his retinas. Xiumin barely resisted hunching his shoulders when he saw the cameramen, the large black cameras more intimidating than anything he had experienced. 

“Hello,” Xiumin said as he approached them, bowing and covering his eyes with a hand. He left little slits between his fingers so he would be able to see, so the cameras wouldn’t see him. He pushed down the automatic reaction to shove them away, to turn around and walk right back down the path. His eyes were easily recognizable, wide and winged even without eyeliner. He hadn’t worn makeup, but he felt like people on the street would know him simply for his eyes. He didn’t know if he still had fans, but if he did he knew they would be die hard ones, the ones who still waited for him. “It’s been a year already. How have you been?” 

The cameramen smiled a little awkwardly, and a wave of pity washed over Xiumin. The newer ones were always stuck outside to greet the guests. He bowed to them again, doing his best to ignore them as he walked up to the door. He didn’t even need to knock, the door opening inward as he stepped in front of it. The woman who greeted him was beautiful. It was almost disgusting, how he still thought so after what she had done to him. Her long hair fell loose over her shoulders, the turquoise dress she wore emphasized her curves and her breasts were practically falling out of the low neckline. Xiumin bowed, polite as he was trained to be, lowering his hand a little so she could recognize him. 

“You said you would have a mask for me,” Xiumin said, skipping over any pleasantries. The woman pouted at him. 

“It’s always all business with you,” she huffed. Xiumin didn’t deign her with an answer. After a couple seconds with her words left hanging she gave in with a shrug. “I left it at home, we were in a rush today. Anyway, you’ll figure something out. Come in.” She stood to the side, gesturing to the inside of the hall, lined with paintings and little tables holding vases full of exotic flowers. Xiumin walked past her, hand still blocking his eyes, his back rigid despite the short conversation. 

Seeing that woman did nothing to ease his nerves, the butterflies getting worse once he stepped inside. The cameras near him, the ones that weren’t focusing on anyone, turned to him. This gained the attention of almost everyone there, all of them beaming at him but no one approaching him. He supposed it was obvious he was in a bad mood, but all it did was further agitate him. This wasn’t normal, nothing about today was normal and he wished he hadn’t came. Xiumin made a beeline for three of his cousins, spotting tinted glasses in front of the oldest.

“Hyung!” The youngest of the three yelled, jumping up and throwing an arm around Xiumin. Xiumin smiled under his mask, free arm squeezing the teen’s waist. “It’s been a while. Oh, you forgot your mask? You can use Jin-hyung’s glasses, I’m sure he won’t mind.”

“I don’t,” Seokjin said, elegant yet crooked fingers wrapping around the bridge of the glasses and handing them over. Xiumin slipped them on, bowing his head towards Seokjin in thanks. The bleach blond glanced around before blowing Xiumin a kiss, a small smile curling over his full lips. Xiumin nodded in acknowledgment, taking a seat next to the middle brother. He was watching with a relaxed look, his hair short and a pretty shade of green. Xiumin reached up to brush his fingers against the bristly tips. The teen mirrored the movement, confusion written across his face before smoothing out with a dimpled smile.

“For an ad,” he said, “it’s for a videogame, and the main character has green hair for whatever reason. And since I have dimples they thought I would be the perfect choice.”

“Naw, it’s actually because Namjoon’s taller than that Wu boy,” Seokjin said. Namjoon blushed, shaking his head and looking down. “Speaking of the Wu family, apparently one of them is gate crashing tonight.” 

“I mean, it wouldn’t be hard, with the amount of people Auntie invites,” the youngest said, his deep a little loud. His brothers hushed him, guiltily looking around. Xiumin took the chance to glance over the room. His cousins had always calmed him down, even though they didn’t know why he always hid. They were some of the few who knew who he was under the mask, and knowing that they would support him anyhow was the reason he continued to stay with them every year. However, even their reassuring presence couldn’t put an end to his nerves, the uncomfortable feeling growing when he saw people and cameras alike turning away as he looked. 

The room looked like a repurposed ballroom. There was a raised platform at one end of the room, a live band playing some sort of ballad sounding song. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling, glittering light falling over the guests. The tables were circular, the tablecloth color of this year was a baby blue. Xiumin briefly wondered if one of the guests had recently had a baby, but he would have heard about it by now. Waiters waited every few meters, cameramen almost as frequent. He recognized everyone in the room, but instead of calming him it made his anxiety worse. He was pulled out of his thoughts as his cousins began to talk again, preventing him from examining his butterflies.

“As I was saying,” Seokjin said, running a hand through his blond locks, “we have an imposter tonight. You think Auntie will catch him?”

“A better question is when she catches him, will she let him stay?” Namjoon said. His brothers nodded, a mischievous smile flitting over the youngest’s face. Namjoon frowned at it, worry filling his own. “Before you say anything, Taetae, no.”

“C’mon, it’s nothing bad,” Taehyung said, box smile slowly spreading. “We won’t get in trouble for it.”

“You say that every time and every time something goes wrong,” Namjoon said, “don’t you remember when you went and blocked all of North America and Europe from our Twitter? You weren’t punished, but I still remember the solid month of unpaid leave that Auntie gave me and Jin. I never thought I’d miss working, but goddamn if I’m not glad I can still get modeling gigs.”   


“It’s nothing on that scale, and it’ll be fine since Hyung is here,” Taehyung said, gesturing to Xiumin. Seokjin was already onboard, pouting at Namjoon. Xiumin watched, amused, as Namjoon was worn down by Taehyung’s almost bewitching words and the pleading expression on Seokjin’s face. Finally he gave in, a wrinkle between his brows and his shoulders tense. “Perfect. Let’s make a betting pool, just the four of us.”

“Isn’t that illegal?” Seokjin asked, blinking at Taehyung. The youngest rolled his eyes, a soft sigh escaping him.

“Here, what about this,” Taehyung said half a second later, dropping his voice, “Auntie is a serious homophobe, isn’t she?” His brothers nodded and Xiumin leaned forward to hear more. Taehyung beamed at their interest, wiggling in his seat a little. “Let’s all guess, when’s someone gonna tell her off about it. We all know the Wu’s aren’t gonna do shi - I mean anything. So what about the rest of us famous people? More and more teens are coming out, so at some point someone’s gonna get pissed, am I right?”   


“I will never understand how you were born to this family and not some strawberry farmer down south,” Seokjin mumbled, his voice disapproving but it was clear to everyone that he wanted in on the “bet”. Namjoon was similarly interested, but he was less obvious about it, leaning away from his brother and glancing across the room. “What happens if you get it right?”

“Then you can comfortably come outta the closet,” Taehyung said. Seokjin groaned, slumping backwards. “Sorry, bad joke. Um, I’m still thinking about it. Probably get to treat the losers as slaves for a day.”

“That’s such an unoriginal reward,” Namjoon mumbled. Taehyung stuck out his tongue at him, and Seokjin automatically slapped the back of Taehyung’s head and scolded him about respect as Namjoon gave him a smug look.

“Loser’s pictures released,” Xiumin mumbled, the quiet words barely managing to catch Taehyung’s attention. The youngest’s mouth dropped open, and silence fell over the table. Seokjin had a gleeful look on his voice, while Namjoon looked downright terrified. 

“You, my dearest hyung,” Seokjin said, “are a truly dreadful human being.” There was a smile on his face, though, and the excited way he glanced between his brothers proved his possession of unspeakable evidence. “I’m gonna say under six months.”   


“That’s too long,” Taehyung whined. “Under five.” His range was met with a disbelieving snort from his oldest brother. He didn’t change his answer though, just turning to hear Namjoon’s answer. 

“Under two years,” Namjoon said, turning to Xiumin. “What about you, hyung?”

“Six years ago,” Xiumin said. The brothers paused, blinking at Xiumin. “That was when someone blew up at her, and it wasn’t pretty.” They were quiet for another second, and then Namjoon was slumping in his chair.

“Goddamn it, that means we lost,” he said. Xiumin giggled behind his mask, shaking his head. 

“No, it just means I’m not taking part. I’ll hold you to the bet, though,” Xiumin grinned even though he knew his cousins couldn’t see it. “None of you are getting out of this.” 

The brothers nodded, shaking on it. It was just after that that the lights dimmed and a spotlight turned on the stairs to show the woman who had been greeting the guests walking down. She headed for the slightly raised stage where the band had been playing, stepping lightly onto it. She beamed, more for the cameras than the guests, and began to speak.

“It’s been another year,” she said, “and so many of us have changed. But. . .” Xiumin zoned her out, looking over the room again. The bad feeling had returned, denied only for a few minutes by the placing of his cousin’s bets. Nothing had changed, really, other than the lack of talking. At least, that was what he was thinking before his gaze caught onto a man standing at the back of the room, speaking to a cameraman. Xiumin didn’t recognize him. He wasn’t wearing the all black outfit designated for the cameramen, instead dressed in a black vest over a short sleeve shirt. His mask was a light blue to match his shirt and covered the lower half of his face. His eyeliner was smudged attractively, eyes glittering behind the makeup and the curtain of his hair and the curve to them made Xiumin think the man might be smiling. 

_ So that’s our spy, _ Xiumin thought, turning back to face the stage. The discovery excited him, and the urge to go and talk to the man was setting him on edge. Maybe he was the source of the bad feeling?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two is out!!! Sorry it's such a late update, I totally forgot it was Thursday in my hurry to finish my homework (as I always am). But anyway, tell me how this chapter is! Jin and Namjoonie and Taetae are in this chapter because I'm trash, but like, you learned stuff from them? I guess???? Anyway, tell me what you think. :))


	3. The Intruder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Xiumin meets the gate-crasher, but before anything important comes out their host interrupts.

Chapter Three

 

As soon as the host was done speaking, the guests returned to their conversations, getting up to walk between tables. Xiumin excused himself from his cousins’ table, sparing a glance to where the host stood with three of her sons. Jongdae and Joonmyun were actively conversing, while Jongin scanned the room for a source of entertainment. Xiumin smiled to himself and hurried to intercept the imposter before he could reach the other guests.

“Hey,” Xiumin said, shifting to stand in the man’s way. The man immediately stopped, beaming down at Xiumin. Or at least Xiumin thought he was beaming, as he could only see the man’s eyes.

“Hello,” the man said. He had a pleasant enough voice, one that rang with some sort of tune to his words. It was familiar, but probably only because Xiumin’s mother had pointed the Wu family out so many times when he was a child. “How are you tonight?” 

“I was doing fine,” Xiumin stepped a little closer, lowering his voice, “at least until I saw you. You’re the gate crasher, aren’t you?” The man blinked, surprised, before his eyes settled back into their smile. 

“Was I that obvious?” He said with a laugh, the sound of it hanging in the air. Xiumin nodded, turning to look over the people in the room. None of them were looking at him and most importantly the host was still captivated by her sons. Xiumin turned back to the man, who had been watching Xiumin with slightly narrowed eyes. 

“Join me outside? Go out a minute or so after I do, and do it with the mindset that you belong here, don’t think that you’re not invited or wanted,” Xiumin said. He waited for the man’s nod of agreement before he turned and headed for a door that only the waiters used. It lead outside and was an exit that he frequently used to get away.

The door opened into a hallway with two or three doors leading off of it. Xiumin ignored them and traveled the length of it, heading for the door on the end. He opened it and moved a nearby rock to hold it open so the man would be able to find his way out. The evening air was colder than he expected; Xiumin almost turned back around. Because his suit was handmade and the fabric was thin cotton, the breeze scraped along him to raise goosebumps. While a shudder passed through him, he walked down the bush lined path. He looked for a bench, finding one at the center of the maze. He had came through here frequently when he still lived in Korea, enough to memorize the path to the center. For a brief second he wondered if the man would make it through to him but his fears were proved unfounded when he heard people walking. The man had probably brought cameramen with him, which meant Xiumin needed to watch his words.

The man entered the center carefully, glancing around the bush to see him before coming in. Two cameramen followed and remained standing with one camera pointing at each of them. Xiumin wondered how useful they would be as night was falling and there weren’t any lights near them. Maybe Xiumin should have just talked to the man inside. But that would have been even more suspicious, after all Xiumin only ever talked to his cousins and occasionally the host. He was sure it would have put the man into the spotlight too quickly. People had paid attention to him today, attention beyond what he was normally graced with. That wasn’t normal and it scared him.

“Finally found you,” the man said. He flopped down on the bench next to Xiumin, totally relaxed despite the cold. “This maze is confusing.”

  
“It’s a maze,” Xiumin said, “are you going to take off your mask?”

  
“Are you?” The man’s eyes displayed their smile again. 

“Then will you tell me your name? I can’t guess unless I see your face,” Xiumin said. The man tilted his head, before shrugging.

“Just guess between us Wus,” the man said, “you can’t go wrong with that. Unless you pick Baba, because he’s taller than I’ll ever be.”   


“That’s like asking if I was one of my cousins,” Xiumin said with a laugh. The man leaned towards him.

“And who would they be?” The man said. “Were they the ones you sat with earlier?”

  
“I don’t know, were they, Baekhyun?” The man blinked, before he pulled off his mask with a laugh. Xiumin was blessed with a box shaped smile, the one that curved his eyes so prettily. It was a handsome look on him, Xiumin could suddenly understand why he had so many fans. 

“Caught me,” he said, “but do I get the privilege of knowing who you are?” Xiumin thought it over. There were cameras focused on the both of them and he knew this wouldn’t be edited out of the final broadcast. This conversation was worth too much, not only because he had basically offered to teach Baekhyun how to successfully infiltrate the party but also because the ease between the two of them seemed to lean more towards flirting than anything. At least, it felt a lot like flirting. Maybe Baekhyun didn’t feel like it did and Xiumin was overthinking it? It had been a while since Xiumin had allowed himself to relax enough to flirt with someone other than Tao. Tao who was probably worried sick, because Xiumin had forgot to call him, _ goddamn it. _ Xiumin bit his tongue to pull himself back into the conversation.

“Not my name,” Xiumin said slowly, “but I’ll remove my mask as well.” Baekhyun didn’t even wait for him to do it himself, leaning forward himself to unhook the mask from around Xiumin’s ears with gentle fingers. Baekhyun’s eyes were focused on his lips for a couple seconds, eyelids heavy, but then he was looking up with a smile.

“I suppose nothing will convince you to take off your glasses as well,” Baekhyun said. Well, it was more mumbling than anything, his voice a tinge heavier. Xiumin smiled, forgetting for a second that his mask wasn’t on. Baekhyun’s eyes focused on the crooked curve of his lips. Xiumin tilted his head and expirementally liked his lips. Baekhyun swallowed. Baekhyun, honest to goodness, had actually been flirting this whole time and had actually gulped. Swallowed so loud Xiumin could hear it, just from him licking his lips! 

“First lesson of fitting in is to control your expression,” Xiumin said. It broke the mood instantly, Baekhyun drawing back with a blush spreading across his cheekbones and ears, sinking down his neck. “A girl wouldn’t have minded you staring, but a boy here would object if only to not get in trouble with our host.”

“So you’re not all homophobes,” Baekhyun sounded surprised and it was all Xiumin could do to not take offense. Baekhyun had a sheepish look as he said it though, a string of regret running through his eyes. “They way you act makes it seem like you all are.”

“Our host has the power to ruin us with a single word. I don’t know a single person she doesn’t have dirt on,” Xiumin said, “so there’s no way we can cross her.” Baekhyun nodded, frowned, and looked down. He was quiet for a minute, leaving Xiumin to wonder if he had said something weird, if Baekhyun was regretting having come out to talk to him.

“You don’t call her by name,” Baekhyun said, looking up, “any reason?”

“Rule two,” Xiumin said, “unless it’s gossip, pretend you know everything about everyone here. Most of us have known each other since either trainee days or birth, so if you don’t know who someone is don’t ask. Just talk respectfully.” Baekhyun looked thrown at the change of subject, but flowed with it anyway, wrapping an arm around the back of the bench and smiling.

“Makes sense,” Baekhyun said. “What about you?”

  
“What about me?” Xiumin blinked at his companion, finding a strange look on the man’s face. Baekhyun’s eyes were glittering, a smirk curling over his lips.

“Does everyone know you? Or are they pretending,” Baekhyun asked. Xiumin wet his lips, thinking over how to answer.

“My brothers aren’t aware I’m here, and most of the guests only know me as the masked man who has been attending the last few years,” he said, “but my cousins know who I am, as does our host.”

“You really hate her,” Baekhyun said, “is there any -” Xiumin jerked forwards, hand clamping over Baekhyun’s mouth. The man blinked at him as Xiumin turned to face the entrance to the center of the maze. The butterflies in Xiumin’s stomach rose ten times as strong as they had previously been, his heart pounding. For a second he was reminded of the secret dates he had escaped on in the middle of the night before he left home. Night had fully fallen and the air was frigid, so why was he hearing someone walk through the maze? It sounded like more than one person, the thumps of feet almost echoing in the silence.

“Go,” Xiumin mumbled, “turn right so whoever it is doesn’t see you.” Baekhyun nodded under his hand, and Xiumin let go. Baekhyun walked quickly, a cameraman following him, he peeked out carefully before exiting the center. Xiumin realized a couple seconds too late that Baekhyun still had his mask, but he would have to make do. He forced himself to look relaxed on the bench, and it was only a second later that the host entered. 

“I thought you’d be here,” she said, walking over to sit beside him. Xiumin raised a hand to cover his mouth, even though he knew she knew exactly what he looked like. “Where’s your mask?” 

“I didn’t know I would have company, so I left it inside,” Xiumin said. She gave him an unimpressed look.

“Don’t think I don’t know when you’re lying,” she said. Xiumin didn’t answer, using the tinted glasses as a cover so he could look behind her. Baekhyun had poked his head around the corner, mask back on but with a wrinkle between his eyebrows. Xiumin’s mask was in his hand, the white standing out against the darkness that surrounded him. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter where your mask is because you won’t be wearing it to any more parties.” Xiumin’s full attention returned to her, his shoulders tensing.

“You’re gonna stop inviting me,” he said, unable to keep the surprise from his voice. She laughed, the sound sending Xiumin’s heart and hopes plunging down to his knees.

“Of course not,” she said, “I’m changing my end of our agreement. Don’t worry about it, I’ve already arranged everything. You’re set to have your solo debut in two months. I know you’ve been working out, and you’ve always loved to dance. That’s the choreo taken care of already. So long as you haven’t wrecked your voice in the last six years, recording should go both well and quickly.”

“What?” Xiumin mumbled. She raised an eyebrow at him, eyes flashing in irritation.

“I said, you’re going -”

“No,” Xiumin said, jumping up and baking away from her, shaking uncontrollably. “No, no, you promised. You promised!” He felt sick, bile rising in his stomach as panic flared through him. She frowned and stood as well. “I’m not going to! I have a life, a  _ job _ , you can’t just -” 

“Stop acting like a brat,” she said, voice stern. Xiumin fell silent immediately, unable to stop the conditioned reaction. “I gave you your freedom. I paid for your round trips, for a suit when you couldn’t afford one. I’ve raised you since you were a child, even though I was more than busy enough with my promotions. I know what’s best for you. You will be debuting, and you will do it with a smile pasted across your face.” She reached forward, sliding the glasses off of Xiumin’s face. He made no attempt to hide his tears or devastated expression. Her face switched from the irritation to what looked like a warm smile. “I’m going to go give these back to poor Seokjin. You will calm down and come back inside and stand next to me and your brothers for the family picture. Remember, I’m only doing this to help you, my little Seokseokie.”

Kim Minseok watched with tears rolling down his face as his mother walked away from him, taking with her the life he fought so hard to live.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually posted this one (relatively) on time!!! I'm sorry for the limited interaction (actually no I'm not) but that, uh. . . It'll get better. Hands up if you dislike Xiu's mother already?? *counts hands* Wow, ok.  
> But anyway, feel free to tell me what you think. I honestly want to hear your thoughts and opinions about this story. It's actually what keeps me writing. I'm on the tenth chapter right now, so I really need that motivation!! I want to see the end of this fic!! So, please tell me what you think in the comments, and as always, thank you for reading!!!!!!!!!!!!!! :D


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ok, this chapter is super early and also a notice. I'm gonna go on a quick hiatus on this. I've realized I don't like writing without a plan of action, so I'm going to stop posting and get this fic in order. Alongside that, I'm very stressed from school and being the perfectionist I can sometimes be is really not doing me any good. If I haven't started to post this fic again in. . . December, maybe? If I haven't restarted this by December then feel free to remind me through either a comment on here or an ask on my Tumblr ( bangtanhommies.tumblr.com ). Thank you!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, this chapter is super early and also a notice. I'm gonna go on a quick hiatus on this. I've realized I don't like writing without a plan of action, so I'm going to stop posting and get this fic in order. Alongside that, I'm very stressed from school and being the perfectionist I can sometimes be is really not doing me any good. If I haven't started to post this fic again in. . . December, maybe? If I haven't restarted this by December then feel free to remind me through either a comment on here or an ask on my Tumblr ( bangtanhommies.tumblr.com ). Thank you!!!

Chapter Four

Xiumin slumped over, trying not to sob too loudly. In the back of his mind somewhere he knew he had to act like it was ok, because the fans, if he still had any, would be worried about him when this was broadcasted. But he didn’t really care, didn’t want to care. He didn’t want to debut, he told that woman six years ago and he told her tonight, but why didn’t she listen? Why couldn’t his mother listen to him? Why was she like this to him but totally relaxed with his brothers?   
“Hey,” Baekhyun’s voice broke into the spiral into his thoughts. Xiumin looked up at him, not bothering to try to make himself look more presentable. There was a calm expression on Baekhyun’s face, none of the pity or shock Xiumin had been expecting. The younger man’s eyes retained their sparkle when they looked at Xiumin. “You wanna get outta here? I can drive you to your hotel if you need me to.”  
Xiumin nodded, tears still trickling down his cheeks. Baekhyun beamed at him, taking a hold of his elbow and leading him to the exit of the center. There he paused, turning to Xiumin with a sheepish look as he admitted he didn’t know the way out. Despite his bad mood, Xiumin couldn’t stop himself from laughing a little. The sound was a little hoarse, but it was pretty recognizable for what it was and Baekhyun laughed with him. Xiumin pointed the way out, still following Baekhyun even though he was the one giving the directions. Xiumin couldn’t get rid of his thoughts on their way out, and found the little ray of sunshine Baekhyun had provided him with fading quickly.   
They reached Baekhyun’s car pretty quickly, a modest grey Toyota Camry. Xiumin didn’t dwell on how quiet it was compared to fancier cars and sunk into the seat. He gave his hotel address when Baekhyun asked, and then returned to his thoughts. His mother was going to kill him when she found out he already left. She’d probably kill Baekhyun too, when she realized it was through Baekhyun that Xiumin found his escape. He couldn’t understand it though, why would she still want him back? After their argument and his immediate banishment, it would make more sense if she never tried to force him back into her world.  
Becoming a famous again, becoming an idol, meant he would have to give up on Xiumin. This side of him that he spent a year on the streets learning, this person whom he had slowly become over the course of his exile who he knew was himself and not an act for a camera. He wasn’t ready to be Minseok again. Kim Minseok, the oldest son of one of the most popular Korean actresses to date, her only son conceived and born out of wedlock. Her only mistake. He didn’t want to be the person he abandoned when he was begging on the unfamiliar streets of Beijing and offering himself in return for a good sized amount of money. He didn’t want to alienate that part of himself who had resulted from his struggle to survive. As an idol, he wouldn’t have even half of the personal space and distance he craved before he managed to get himself both a steady job and an apartment with a lockable front door.  
A wave of self pity washed over him when he realized that this would mean he wouldn’t be able to meet with Tao again. Tao, the bestest friend he had ever had, who was probably still awake waiting for Xiumin’s call. This thought alone drove him into another wave of silent tears, curling to the side as much as he could with the seatbelt restricting his movement. He would never be able to see Tao or thank Tao’s tailor friend or argue with his boss over the potential of a manuscript. He remembered the effect of stress that came with being an idol had on his mother. He remembered the pills and drugs, even if she thought he would have forgotten. He didn’t want that, that uncertainty. He wanted his job and best friend and the life that came with the two, stable in its faults.   
The car slowed to a stop, and that’s when Xiumin finally wiped at his tears. He turned to thank Baekhyun for the ride, but was faced with an expression more serious than he had ever seen on the young man’s face. They stared at each other for a couple seconds, and then Baekhyun broke the silence.  
“If you want,” he said, “and only if you want, I could bring you to my family’s house so you can lay low for a couple days?” Xiumin blinked at him, taking in the earnest tone of his words and the way his fingers were clenched on the wheel. “You know, so you can safely resolve things without pressure. I’ll protect you from that witch, I promise.” Xiumin rubbed at his nose, thinking it over a little.  
“Lemme go make a call,” he whispered, “I’ll come back out here when I’m done. Wait for me?”  
“Forever,” Baekhyun said, his voice and face dead serious. Xiumin huffed with a smile, unlocking his seatbelt and heading up to his room. He scrambled for his phone, calling Tao as quickly as he could. His best friend picked up on the first ring, his raspy voice a little distorted over the phone.  
“Are you safe,” were the first words out of his friend’s mouth, followed by a stream of well meant, panicked words. Xiumin drew comfort from it, waiting for Tao to finish rambling before beginning to speak himself.   
“My mother’s dragging me back into family shit,” he said quietly. There was a second where Tao was silently trying to digest the information, and Xiumin took full advantage of that. “Everything I thought I left for good, and it’s starting all over again. Tao, I won’t be able to come back. I won’t be able to see you again.”  
“It can’t be that bad,” Tao said, just as quiet and somehow sounding as devastated as Xiumin felt, “you can still come home, it’s not that bad. It can’t be.” Xiumin let out a mirthless laugh, head falling limply back on his shoulders. “I’m not going to pretend I know anything about your family, but it can’t be that bad. Gege, it can’t.”  
“Do you want to know who my family is?” Xiumin mumbled, vaguely hearing the slightly insane tinge to his voice. “Do you wanna know who I really am, Taozi?”  
“I want you to hide somewhere she can’t influence you and get a good night’s sleep,” Tao said, voice firm. “My Ba always says it’s not good to make big decisions when you’re tired and sad. Figure it all out tomorrow, Baozi.” Xiumin hummed in agreement, holding his phone to his ear a solid minute after his best friend had said goodbye hung up. He slowly looked around the hotel room, at how empty it was, how impersonal. At least maybe at Baekhyun’s house, the Wu family home, he would feel comfortable. Sterility had always unnerved him.   
Talking to Tao had reduced his nerves somewhat, he mused as he packed his meager belongings, despite their short and almost meaningless conversation. Tao had always had that effect on Xiumin, ever since Tao pulled him off the ground and offered his home to Xiumin. His tears were slowing down, but a glance in the mirror showed that he still looked miserable. The editor sighed, exiting the room. He headed down to the receptionist, checking out quickly, and heading outside. Baekhyun’s car hadn’t moved, so Xiumin hurried over to get inside.   
“So I called my dad, he knows you’re coming over,” Baekhyun explained as he pulled away from the sidewalk, “he’s not scary or anything. He’s actually just a dork, I don’t think he’d actually do anything with the intention of hurting someone. That’s just not who he is.” Xiumin nodded, wiping at his face. Baekhyun dug around in the glove compartment, not taking his eyes off the road. He handed Xiumin a pack of tissues and a travel sized bottle of water. Xiumin thanked him, taking a swig from the bottle. He slumped back in his seat, his head rolling back against the headrest. Baekhyun glanced at him, taking a breath to say, “you wanna talk?”  
“I don’t want to be Minseok,” Xiumin whispered, “that’s not who I am anymore. I don’t want to be Minseok.” Baekhyun hummed, nodding like he understood. Xiumin chose not to say anything more on the matter, curling in on himself and resisting the urge to cry again. He didn’t know what was wrong him, normally he didn’t cry. The last time he had was during that one year of torture, the first time he allowed himself to be fu -  
“We’re here,” Baekhyun said. Xiumin blinked, a little thrown by the short ride. He peered out his window to see a modest house, two stories and nothing fancy. He unlocked his seat belt a little uncertainly, Baekhyun already skipping up the path. Xiumin followed, admiring the homely feeling and safe vibes the neighborhood gave off. If he could have lived here as a child, he definitely would have. “Are you coming or not?” Xiumin rubbed at his cheeks, holding his bag close to his chest. He followed Baekhyun slowly, watching as the door was thrown open before the young man even reached it. Another man exited immediately, throwing his arms arms around Baekhyun. Xiumin realized with a start that he recognized that face and the voice that ranted at Baekhyun in accented Korean.   
“- and you could have been caught, or hurt, or, or anything, you shouldn’t put your job over your safety, safety comes first no matter what, I’ve been so worried,” Wu Zhang Yixing said, his sweet voice practically tumbling over the words. Xiumin had the sudden urge to write it all out, the rise and fall and pitch of it, but he squashed it almost instantly. Yixing pulled away from Baekhyun an instant later, pulling Xiumin into a hug as well. Xiumin stiffened, but Yixing didn’t seem to care, looking at him all over for any signs of injury. “And you’re ok too? She didn’t hurt you, did she? Thank God, I was so scared. Come inside, I even prepared some hot water bottles, and, oh no, your eyes are all red, have you been rubbing them too hard? You shouldn’t overwork your eyes, they’re very special, not only that but yours are so pretty, I don’t think even Appa’s eyes are that wide, they don’t look your mother’s, do you think they’re from your Ba?” He said all this while pulling Baekhyun and Xiumin inside, leading them into the kitchen.  
“Baek, you’re back,” a small man, he was a little taller than Xiumin, stood, walking over to hug the teenager. Baekhyun hummed, content in the man’s arms. And then the man was pulling away to frown at Xiumin. “Are you alright?”  
“Kind of,” Xiumin said, suddenly aware that this was probably the man Yixing had called his Appa. “Not really.”  
“Do you need a place to stay? Or do you have a friend?” The man asked. Xiumin paused. He didn’t have any money, but he was sure he’d be able to find some sort of shelter to stay at. At best he’d have a roof, at worse he was curled up behind a dumpster somewhere. The man caught onto his hesitation and smiled at him. It was a pretty smile, one that fit his face. “It’s fine, just stay here. I’m Lu - well, actually Wu now, Han. I’m sorry, Yifan isn’t home right now, otherwise he’d be here too.”   
“Thank you,” Xiumin said, bowing. “I’m Xiumin, it’s an honor to meet you.” Han laughed, a blush spreading across his pale skin.   
“You don’t have to be so formal with me you know,” he said. Xiumin awkwardly nodded, glancing over at Baekhyun. He and Yixing had their heads leaned together, speaking in low tones. Han noticed a second after Xiumin did, frowning as he turned to his sons. “What’re you plotting?”  
“Sleeping arrangements,” Yixing answered. Baekhyun nodded eagerly. “We decided Gege, you’re older, aren’t you? I’ve always wanted a big brother, because I’m the older one of me and Baek and it seemed like such a cool thing to have an older brother, but anyway you can stay in Baek’s room with him. That’s ok?” The question was addressed to his father and with Han’s nod of approval, the two brothers had latched onto Xiumin, pulling him towards the stairs. The landing it lead to was small, only four doors leading off of it. Yixing pointed to the one on the far right. “That’s Appa’s and Ba’s room, totally off limits.”  
“But only because of one time I came in and drew all over the walls,” Baekhyun said, his laugh falling through the air. Xiumin admired the way it sounded, the way it practically harmonized with Yixing’s giggles. “The best part is that it was in Sharpie, and they still have it stuck on there.”  
“But anyway,” Yixing broke in, pointing to the next door, “this one is my room.”  
“Also off limits ‘cuz his equipment’s in there,” Baekhyun said, sighing.  
“Only you’re not allowed in, Gege can come in,” Yixing said with a smug look. Baekhyun pouted at him and tugged Xiumin away from him. Yixing giggled, latching back onto Xiumin and pointing to the next door. “That’s the bathroom, it’s communal so don’t take your time, and the door on the end is Baek’s room. You’re sharing with him.”   
“Thank you,” Xiumin said, taking a step back and bowing to them both. The brothers looked a little uncomfortable, pulling him up and tugging him inside Baekhyun’s room. There was a bunk bed pushed up against the wall, the sheets of the lower bunk messed up and the one on the top was totally untouched. Xiumin was a little surprised there was even a mattress on it, but he didn’t question it. There was a small table on the other side of the room, cluttered by stationary. Clothes littered the floor, Baekhyun didn’t seem to be shy about the underwear on the floor at all, and there were little glow in the dark stars stuck to the ceiling.   
“Here, why don’t you go clean up?” Baekhyun said, “Hyung and I will go get blankets and stuff, you can have the top bunk.” Xiumin thanked them, relieved that he would be safe for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, this chapter is super early and also a notice. I'm gonna go on a quick hiatus on this. I've realized I don't like writing without a plan of action, so I'm going to stop posting and get this fic in order. Alongside that, I'm very stressed from school and being the perfectionist I can sometimes be is really not doing me any good. If I haven't started to post this fic again in. . . December, maybe? If I haven't restarted this by December then feel free to remind me through either a comment on here or an ask on my Tumblr ( bangtanhommies.tumblr.com ). Thank you!!!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, feel free to rant at me about anything in the comments!!!!!!!!! :))


End file.
